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Veni, Vidi, (Re)aedificavi "I Came, I saw, I (Re)built" (A Commissioned Battletech Isekei)
- Thread starter MarkWarrior
- Start date
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- Tags
- battletech capitalism ho!
Fragment of Serenity
Yu-Shan's Paperwork Ninja
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A good first showing. Let's see what the next steps lead to.
Also, what would Duncan's stat line be as of now, in terms of gunnery and piloting?
Also, what would Duncan's stat line be as of now, in terms of gunnery and piloting?
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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A regular. 5/5
Jarrik32
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
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Honestly I suspect that beyond a few real 'death or glory' fights most of them probably aren't this bloody. I suspect 'big name' fights are set up to be flashy but not as destructive as they look. Especially as a pilot that gets a reputation for deliberately killing opponents* isn't likely to stay a contestant long assuming they don't have an 'accident' in the arena themselves.
Plus from what I can tell it's macro scale logistics that cripple nations rather than tactical losses. I'd imagine for an actual nation the mech losses are a rounding error. Except of course for a few mech models where they genuinely don't make them anymore.
*It may be legal to a degree but there is a limit to what local authorities will tolerate and more importantly I imagine the arena managers won't be amused.
Chapter 34
New
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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Chapter 34
Date: September 12, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
Back home, I hadn't really ever been into guns or the outdoors. Sure, it's fairly stereotypical for tech startups to lock themselves inside until they've solved their most recent problems. In my case, it'd been true. For one thing, redheads and the outdoors didn't always mix well. I was particularly susceptible to the sun, and as a kid I'd learned taht even judicious applications of susncreen and covering my body didn't always work.
Here in this strange world in which I'd found myself a budding entrant into the military industrial complex, that had changed. I now had a fiance who wouldn't let me slack off in anything. When we'd first started discussing FireFlight industries, one of her primary statements had been that we couldn't sell a product that we wouldn't use ourselves.
Which is why I'd found myself at a privately owned shooting range in the middle of the desrrt, the sun beating down on my pale skin., and a pair of massive trucks loaded up with every type of weapon that we could or might produce for the new company.
Thankfully, the combat uniforms/clothing that Rebecca had pushed us towards was lightweight, kept the sun from killing me, and actually left me feeling like I wasn't going to die out here after a few hours.
Yes, getting to shoot machine guns, assault rifles, and everything was 'cool' at first, but the novelty quickly wore off after the fifth or sixth iteration of a slightly different operating system I shot.
My shoulder ached from the heavy caliber of the squad machine guns, and I was drenched in sweat despite the nice uniforms. The only thing that kept me here was just how hot Rebecca looked right now. And not in the 'it's the desert' heat kind of hot. But the uniform she was wearing hugged her just right and made it all worthwhile. Especially when I knew that after we were done with the shooting that we'd be spending the rest of the week camping to test the other kit she wanted to sell.
There was a part of me that whispered. "She's already tested this gear, she didn't need to drag us out here to die in the desert." I silenced that part of me. Even if she had tested everything, this view was absolutely worth it. Especially when she finished a pattern of fire and stood up, resting a weapon on her shoulder before looking back at me with an inquisitive look.
I'd never thought I'd find something like this attractive before. Hell, I'd avoided romance and anything to do with it like the plague for years. Now, I was discovering that I most definitely had a type, and I was looking right at her.
"What?" She asked, arching an eyebrow over the Aviators she wore.
"Nothing," I shook my head, finishing the water before standing up and heading back over to her. "Just wondering how many more of these do we have to test?"
"Well, part of the reason I brought you out here was to see how intuitive some of the weapons are. Not everyone we sell to is going to be experts at this kind of thing," She said, handing me the next weapon and expecting me to figure it out. "Once we're done with this, we'll get all of the weapons for each class, and I'll have you pick out the ones that were easier to figure out the proper handling procedures. Whatever's easiest for you to figure out will probably be the same for everyone else. Then, I'll do some reliability testing outside of this, run it through the mud, sand, dirt, heat, cold, and anything else it might need to stand up to and we'll select hte weapons that are both easy to use and last the longest for manufacture."
"You couldn't have explained that earlier?" I asked.
"I thought I had," Rebecca replied, cocking her head to the side before facepalming. "No, nevermind, I didn't explain it. I thought I'd explained it after I went over the safety rules. But I just handed you an SRM launcher and told you to shoot that hill."
She pointed across the desert a few kilometers away where the missile had detonated.
"Yeah, that was freakin' awesome," I admitted. No matter how divorced I had been from media, firearms, etc. I didn't think there was a man alive who didn't appreciate an explosion. Especially one that he had set off himself.
"So, yeah," Rebecca said sheepishly. "I'm running tests using you as the primary testor to see what works best for people new to this kind of thing."
"I mean, it makes sense," I shrugged. "So, how many more do we have to go through."
She coughed and said something that I thought sounded like thirteen.
"Thirteeen isn't bad," I said to the brunette.
"Sorry, we have thirty," She chuckled at the miscommunication. "But after that, we get to spend a night together out under the stars. It'll be fun!" She winked.
I shook my head and did what every boyfriend, infantryman, and military member has done for thousands of years. I grumbled and did what I was told.
Date: September 29, 3029
Construction costs, fees, and delays were one of the things that no one really talked about when it came to startups back on Earth. Starting a store, storefront, or restaurant was actually fairly easy. Usually, there was already a building someone had built that you could lease out to get started. Or, as had been the case with my old tech startup, we'd bought an older office building and done some minor remodels.
Here though, I couldn't settle for a leased building, or an older factory building nearby. For one thing, even the factories around here weren't big enough to fully handle battlemech production unless I managed to buy one of Kali Yama's facilities outright. And I didn't know a singlep person that would be able to afford the kind of buyout that would require.
That, and there were certain security and safety measures that had to be baked into every facility that was geared towards 'mech production beyond industrialmechs. It was the kind of thing that made every new building on the property more expensive, take longer to build, and a nightmare to handle when it came to inspections.
So, a regular factory complex might take two years to build. A MilitiaMech factory could go at about the same pace given there were slightly less security measures to follow. A Battlemech factory? That was the sort of thing that was a three to five year project.
At first, I'd thought that the Mercury facility would take the same amount of time that our Mackie and Phoenix facilities took to build. I was wrong, very wrong. In fact, when I saw Andrew Shepherd lay out the timeline I had frowned. I hadn't given anyone my preliminary estimates for what I expected out of the factory within the next two years, and I was exceedingly grateful for that now. Because I'd have to move everything in my timeline back. I'd been planning to release pre-orders for the Mercury within six months of the factory opening for business.
With a heavy sigh, I rested my head on my desk. Deeply appreciating the cool metal compared to the heat of the factory surrounding me. I'd grown used to how fast things had been moving and had forgotten that things were going to take time.
There wasn't anything I could do to speed up the construction. In fact, any intervention I made would probably end up with delays or worse. Yes, I knew that the big boys on Kalidasa probably had deals worked out with the inspectors to get them to look past a few violations here or there. Because doing everything by the book was expensive. But I also knew that in this case, the rules and required measures existed for a good reason.
A part of the rules and measures were probably things that the big corporations had pushed for in order to help prevent startups from coming and taking market share. Not that it was really a problem in the current climate. With the Free Worlds League Federal Military and militia purchasing everything they could get their hands on, there was plenty of money to go around.
The big problem I was faced with, was that I didn't know how long this 'boom' would last. It could endure for years, or it could come crashing down arounds us. If I threw everything into expanding and it didn't pay off, then we'd be facing some pretty severe consequences.
So, I knuckled down, put a fresh pot of coffee on, and began crunching numbers. Assuming that things slowed down significantly, we would still be operating at a profit. If a small one. After all, our biggest market was the militia, and after a war of this scale, they'd need to replenish losses and do whatever else a military might need. So, now I needed to figure out something that could give us a leg up on the competition. Something that set us apart aside from militiamechs and durable products.
Eventually, it struck me that I'd been ignoring something that I could and should have been planning on selling for years. I had built a rought version of Windows 98 on our current system, and people had loved how intuitive it was. Now I just needed to have it able to be put on a separate installation section along with a basic suite of software and it could net us a lot of money,
There was just one problem though. I hated the subscription model. I didn't want to have to force people to keep paying for something when a product was already doing well enough to suit their needs.That said, I did understand the merits of charging a fee to maintain software that cost money to continue development and pushing into.
I'd have to find some sort of middle ground. Where people who just wanted the basics got what they needed with no frills, but people who wanted support for longer could get it if they were willing to pay for it.
Some issues that I could already foresee was the need to train people, to have a possible IT call center of some kind, as well as a way for companies to get an 'enterprise' license of the software instead of a personal license.
I also needed to figure out a way to build hardware. Corporations would be the largest purchaser, but they wouldn't be willing to buy something if there wasn't already hardware attached to it. I laid my head down again. It looked like I was going to be dipping my fingers into three separate pots of potential gold. Mechs, information technology, and infantry gear.
"Susannah," I called out, and my assistant appeared. "You're the most experienced in the computer systems we have outside of myself, and I've got a few things I want to pick your brain about."
"What would I know that you don't already know?" She asked, taking the seat across from my desk.
"I built the system, and I know that it's a bit expensive. My question is about potentially building out systems like the one we have and selling it and the software to other companies as well as individuals if we can scale it down."
"Don't do it," Susannah shook her head at me, her eyes serious. "Selling your work for it to be broken and stolen by someone else isn't worth it."
"I'll copyright or patent it first," I replied.
"Doesn't matter,' She said. "You haven't really seen it yet, because we don't intrude on anyone's business yet. But you cannot give people who are going to be competing with us a single centimeter. They'll use it against us, drive us out of business, and they won't stop at the computers and software. They'll take everything they possibly can. Keep the software, the computers, everything in house. Selling it might make you a ton of money at first. But it'll end in disaster, trust me."
Date: September 12, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
Back home, I hadn't really ever been into guns or the outdoors. Sure, it's fairly stereotypical for tech startups to lock themselves inside until they've solved their most recent problems. In my case, it'd been true. For one thing, redheads and the outdoors didn't always mix well. I was particularly susceptible to the sun, and as a kid I'd learned taht even judicious applications of susncreen and covering my body didn't always work.
Here in this strange world in which I'd found myself a budding entrant into the military industrial complex, that had changed. I now had a fiance who wouldn't let me slack off in anything. When we'd first started discussing FireFlight industries, one of her primary statements had been that we couldn't sell a product that we wouldn't use ourselves.
Which is why I'd found myself at a privately owned shooting range in the middle of the desrrt, the sun beating down on my pale skin., and a pair of massive trucks loaded up with every type of weapon that we could or might produce for the new company.
Thankfully, the combat uniforms/clothing that Rebecca had pushed us towards was lightweight, kept the sun from killing me, and actually left me feeling like I wasn't going to die out here after a few hours.
Yes, getting to shoot machine guns, assault rifles, and everything was 'cool' at first, but the novelty quickly wore off after the fifth or sixth iteration of a slightly different operating system I shot.
My shoulder ached from the heavy caliber of the squad machine guns, and I was drenched in sweat despite the nice uniforms. The only thing that kept me here was just how hot Rebecca looked right now. And not in the 'it's the desert' heat kind of hot. But the uniform she was wearing hugged her just right and made it all worthwhile. Especially when I knew that after we were done with the shooting that we'd be spending the rest of the week camping to test the other kit she wanted to sell.
There was a part of me that whispered. "She's already tested this gear, she didn't need to drag us out here to die in the desert." I silenced that part of me. Even if she had tested everything, this view was absolutely worth it. Especially when she finished a pattern of fire and stood up, resting a weapon on her shoulder before looking back at me with an inquisitive look.
I'd never thought I'd find something like this attractive before. Hell, I'd avoided romance and anything to do with it like the plague for years. Now, I was discovering that I most definitely had a type, and I was looking right at her.
"What?" She asked, arching an eyebrow over the Aviators she wore.
"Nothing," I shook my head, finishing the water before standing up and heading back over to her. "Just wondering how many more of these do we have to test?"
"Well, part of the reason I brought you out here was to see how intuitive some of the weapons are. Not everyone we sell to is going to be experts at this kind of thing," She said, handing me the next weapon and expecting me to figure it out. "Once we're done with this, we'll get all of the weapons for each class, and I'll have you pick out the ones that were easier to figure out the proper handling procedures. Whatever's easiest for you to figure out will probably be the same for everyone else. Then, I'll do some reliability testing outside of this, run it through the mud, sand, dirt, heat, cold, and anything else it might need to stand up to and we'll select hte weapons that are both easy to use and last the longest for manufacture."
"You couldn't have explained that earlier?" I asked.
"I thought I had," Rebecca replied, cocking her head to the side before facepalming. "No, nevermind, I didn't explain it. I thought I'd explained it after I went over the safety rules. But I just handed you an SRM launcher and told you to shoot that hill."
She pointed across the desert a few kilometers away where the missile had detonated.
"Yeah, that was freakin' awesome," I admitted. No matter how divorced I had been from media, firearms, etc. I didn't think there was a man alive who didn't appreciate an explosion. Especially one that he had set off himself.
"So, yeah," Rebecca said sheepishly. "I'm running tests using you as the primary testor to see what works best for people new to this kind of thing."
"I mean, it makes sense," I shrugged. "So, how many more do we have to go through."
She coughed and said something that I thought sounded like thirteen.
"Thirteeen isn't bad," I said to the brunette.
"Sorry, we have thirty," She chuckled at the miscommunication. "But after that, we get to spend a night together out under the stars. It'll be fun!" She winked.
I shook my head and did what every boyfriend, infantryman, and military member has done for thousands of years. I grumbled and did what I was told.
Date: September 29, 3029
Construction costs, fees, and delays were one of the things that no one really talked about when it came to startups back on Earth. Starting a store, storefront, or restaurant was actually fairly easy. Usually, there was already a building someone had built that you could lease out to get started. Or, as had been the case with my old tech startup, we'd bought an older office building and done some minor remodels.
Here though, I couldn't settle for a leased building, or an older factory building nearby. For one thing, even the factories around here weren't big enough to fully handle battlemech production unless I managed to buy one of Kali Yama's facilities outright. And I didn't know a singlep person that would be able to afford the kind of buyout that would require.
That, and there were certain security and safety measures that had to be baked into every facility that was geared towards 'mech production beyond industrialmechs. It was the kind of thing that made every new building on the property more expensive, take longer to build, and a nightmare to handle when it came to inspections.
So, a regular factory complex might take two years to build. A MilitiaMech factory could go at about the same pace given there were slightly less security measures to follow. A Battlemech factory? That was the sort of thing that was a three to five year project.
At first, I'd thought that the Mercury facility would take the same amount of time that our Mackie and Phoenix facilities took to build. I was wrong, very wrong. In fact, when I saw Andrew Shepherd lay out the timeline I had frowned. I hadn't given anyone my preliminary estimates for what I expected out of the factory within the next two years, and I was exceedingly grateful for that now. Because I'd have to move everything in my timeline back. I'd been planning to release pre-orders for the Mercury within six months of the factory opening for business.
With a heavy sigh, I rested my head on my desk. Deeply appreciating the cool metal compared to the heat of the factory surrounding me. I'd grown used to how fast things had been moving and had forgotten that things were going to take time.
There wasn't anything I could do to speed up the construction. In fact, any intervention I made would probably end up with delays or worse. Yes, I knew that the big boys on Kalidasa probably had deals worked out with the inspectors to get them to look past a few violations here or there. Because doing everything by the book was expensive. But I also knew that in this case, the rules and required measures existed for a good reason.
A part of the rules and measures were probably things that the big corporations had pushed for in order to help prevent startups from coming and taking market share. Not that it was really a problem in the current climate. With the Free Worlds League Federal Military and militia purchasing everything they could get their hands on, there was plenty of money to go around.
The big problem I was faced with, was that I didn't know how long this 'boom' would last. It could endure for years, or it could come crashing down arounds us. If I threw everything into expanding and it didn't pay off, then we'd be facing some pretty severe consequences.
So, I knuckled down, put a fresh pot of coffee on, and began crunching numbers. Assuming that things slowed down significantly, we would still be operating at a profit. If a small one. After all, our biggest market was the militia, and after a war of this scale, they'd need to replenish losses and do whatever else a military might need. So, now I needed to figure out something that could give us a leg up on the competition. Something that set us apart aside from militiamechs and durable products.
Eventually, it struck me that I'd been ignoring something that I could and should have been planning on selling for years. I had built a rought version of Windows 98 on our current system, and people had loved how intuitive it was. Now I just needed to have it able to be put on a separate installation section along with a basic suite of software and it could net us a lot of money,
There was just one problem though. I hated the subscription model. I didn't want to have to force people to keep paying for something when a product was already doing well enough to suit their needs.That said, I did understand the merits of charging a fee to maintain software that cost money to continue development and pushing into.
I'd have to find some sort of middle ground. Where people who just wanted the basics got what they needed with no frills, but people who wanted support for longer could get it if they were willing to pay for it.
Some issues that I could already foresee was the need to train people, to have a possible IT call center of some kind, as well as a way for companies to get an 'enterprise' license of the software instead of a personal license.
I also needed to figure out a way to build hardware. Corporations would be the largest purchaser, but they wouldn't be willing to buy something if there wasn't already hardware attached to it. I laid my head down again. It looked like I was going to be dipping my fingers into three separate pots of potential gold. Mechs, information technology, and infantry gear.
"Susannah," I called out, and my assistant appeared. "You're the most experienced in the computer systems we have outside of myself, and I've got a few things I want to pick your brain about."
"What would I know that you don't already know?" She asked, taking the seat across from my desk.
"I built the system, and I know that it's a bit expensive. My question is about potentially building out systems like the one we have and selling it and the software to other companies as well as individuals if we can scale it down."
"Don't do it," Susannah shook her head at me, her eyes serious. "Selling your work for it to be broken and stolen by someone else isn't worth it."
"I'll copyright or patent it first," I replied.
"Doesn't matter,' She said. "You haven't really seen it yet, because we don't intrude on anyone's business yet. But you cannot give people who are going to be competing with us a single centimeter. They'll use it against us, drive us out of business, and they won't stop at the computers and software. They'll take everything they possibly can. Keep the software, the computers, everything in house. Selling it might make you a ton of money at first. But it'll end in disaster, trust me."
Kuroji
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2016
- Messages
- 357
- Likes received
- 6,953
Ah, there's that Inner Sphere crabs-in-a-bucket mentality we've all come to know. This is why we can't have nice things, ever.
Baron Heterodyne
Getting some practice in, huh?
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2022
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- 13
Talk about cutthroat business
Waruiko
Versed in the lewd.
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2014
- Messages
- 1,293
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- 5,975
Now now we don't know for sure shes comstar
Rothgaar001
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Sep 26, 2020
- Messages
- 17
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- 116
The guy has been here for years now right? why can't he seem to get with the program about how ruthless business is in the interfere? I just don't get how he can build up this much and not have a clue. They will literally hire mercenaries to go after each other.
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2019
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- 933
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- 54,318
Because so far it's still just stories told to him. Hearing about something isn't the same thing as witnessing it yourself.
Kuroji
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2016
- Messages
- 357
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- 6,953
It's not a matter of her potentially being Comstar, it's a matter of this being such a highly likely scenario that it is depressing. And yet, completely on brand.
Then again, if the intention is to spread the better interface far and wide, rather than making a mint...
Baldrick the Wise
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2025
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- 3,499
Fiancee dragging him to a firing range with a truck full of guns and ammo? I truly feel for the guy.
Chapter 35
New
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
- Joined
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- 933
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- 54,318
Chapter 35
Date: October 10, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
In the end, I'd done what people throughout history have done. I postponed my decision on what to do regarding my operating system and software package to later. While a part of me felt like I was procrastinating when there was a business opportunity that would be able to launch us into the big leagues, the other part of me was wary now that I'd been reminded of just how cutthroat things were here.
Yes, I knew that to everyone else, I probably seemed naive, and unwilling to learn, but despite the last four, almost five years of my life having been spent here, I'd spent far longer being an entrepreneur back on Earth. Sure, there'd been competition back then, but most of the time, I'd met with, and was actually on good terms with the people that competed with me in the local arenas back home.
So, I'd gotten in touch with the local SAFE branch, and was sitting in the room waiting for a meeting with them now. As a business that had been granted federal grants and loans, we did have a local liaison. This was just the first time I'd ever arranged a meeting. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I was going to find here. I just wanted to see if anyone had attempted anything similar, and what had happened.
Because I'd done a little bit of research with what was publicly available, and I hadn't liked what I found. Technically, corporations that worked for the Federal Government weren't supposed to be able to act against each other besides undercutting each other in bidding wars for contracts, etc.
However, I'd found a lot of information pointing to all of the manufacturers doing shady, underhanded things that I'd only ever heard companies doing in Central America, or parts of Africa before. Sure, I was paying mercenaries to guard Siler's Salvage and Assembly, but it had never really 'clicked' until recently just how in over my head I was regarding this sort of thing.
"Mr. Doe will see you now, Mister Blaze," an unassuming man said, gesturing for me to follow him into the depths of the SAFE field office.
I hadn't felt this nervous in a long time, and I should've kept my mouth shut, instead I asked the question that popped into my head.
"Is his name really John Doe?" I asked.
"Yes?" The man I assumed was an agent said with an odd look on his face as he glanced back. "John's a common enough name. So is Doe."
"Nevermind," I shook my head. I'd just made a fool of myself because I assumed that a cultural norm had passed on through the generations when it clearly hadn't. "I'm just an idiot."
"Whatever you say, sir," the man gestured for me to enter an office and closed the door behind me. Said office was as barren an office as could be. There was a small amount of paperwork unfinished on the desk, but nothing that contained critical information from what I could tell. There was a small safe in the far corner, and a fake window to round out what felt like the most stale office I'd ever been in.
"Mister Blaze," A sharp looking man in a set of dress slacks with an unbuttoned dress shirt stood up and extended a hand for me to shake. "I'm John Doe, I've been wondering when you were going to grace my office with your presence."
"Mister Doe," I felt awkward just saying it.
"You can call me John, if you don't mind me calling you Edmund. Now, take a seat. I assume whatever you have for me is important based on the size of the folder you brought with you," his sharp eyes trailed down to the folder before meeting mine. "So, what brings you to SAFE?"
"Well, I've been doing some research into my competitors, and I had some questions involving patents, how they were enforced, and where both the planetary and Federal governments lines are regarding intellectual property theft," I said, reaching in said folder for what I'd already found. "I've done some research on it, but there didn't seem to be as much information as I'd hoped."
"Well, I'll being by answering the third bit," John accepted the paper and set it down after glancing at it. "The planetary government has no ability to enforce laws or rules regarding goods that are sold to other worlds. The shipping clauses in the documents that bind the FWL together are the reason for this. A large portion of the taxes the Federal Government collects are from interplanetary trade. As far as intellectual property goes," he shrugged. "We protect it to a certain extent. A patent and IP is important, but with the Star League now defunct, we cannot enforce or pursue any legal actions beyond the borders of the FWL. Within our borders, things get a bit… Odd," He leaned forward. "But essentially, it boils down to one key aspect. If you cannot protect your own property. Then we are not responsible for what happens. The days of the Star League are long gone, Edmund. If they were, it'd be a lot easier to deal with IP and patents. Now," He shook his head. "It's everyone out for themselves. If you've got something you want hidden from the other corporations, then don't file a patent for it. Keep it internal. People can't make an attempt to steal something they don't know exists," He leaned back in his chair. "Now, was there anything else?"
"Yes, I wanted to know more about how SAFE operates and what we need to do to ensure we cooperate with you more…"
Date: October 17, 3029
Location: Concord, Free Worlds League
The pirates that had descended on the plains of Concord must have been particularly brave or stupid. Sergeant Austin noted as he saw a glimpse of said pirates across the hills. Usually, the sight of an assault 'mech meant that pirates wanted to go the other way and hit somewhere else.
This group, they must have been an advanced force for a larger band, or they were mercs who had just recently turned pirate. Because instead of turning the other way, they'd changed course to strike at the militia forces.
Of course, Austin did have to admit that a pair of 'mechs, one medium and one heavy didn't exactly inspire fear in the eyes of some newly turned pirates. Especially when it was an even number of units. The units that had been ready to go at a moment's notice was a lance of Scorpions and a pair of J. Edgars. Set that against an Enforcer, a Firestarter, a Wasp, and a Havester Ant Mech Mod… Well, he gave them about even odds of being able to fight off this group of pirates.
The first exchanges of fire between the pirates and the Concord militia had a few shots go wild, some strike and do armor damage, but nothing really happened outside of the two forces closing in on each other in the plains and open fields of the foothills of the mountains that led into the main cities and factories.
That is, until the J. Edgars got in range and Corporal Dunham's crews began to hammer the Wasp while Austin focused on the Enforcer facing him. On paper, the Enforcer and he were probably close to equal. Or they would be if he were in a proper battlemech instead of a militiamech. As it was, Austin was going to have to be careful to not overheat with his energy loadout.
One of his medium blazers melted armor off the Firestarter, a J. Edgar's armored skirt took damage in an exchange with the Wasp, and it fell to the ground, continuing its fire against anyone who came into range.
Then, Lieutenant Reagan tripped, falling over as she tried to back up to keep her eyes on everything, and the battlefield seemed to shift.
The lead pirate in the Enforcer immediately lit up on jump jets and moved to hit Reagan while the young officer was downed, getting in good hits with his autocannon and laser before Reagan rolled and forced herself back up to her feet. Her Mackie was a bit damaged, but she wasn't out of the fight yet. The same couldn't be said of one of the Scorpions, a streak of missiles from the MechMod hammered the sniper until smoke rose from the ruined chassis. They'd have to get Search and Rescue out later. But for now there was a skirmish to be won.
The pirates were definitely former Mercs. Because their gear was more maintained than it had any right to be, and as the fight wore on, Austin became exceedingly aware that he needed something other than the M-Blazers to use. He liked them, but the heat trade-offs meant he wasn't able to do as much as he'd like when using his jump jets. Swapping them out for a brace of medium lasers would do less damage to the enemy, but they'd allow him to be more flexible.
As he was duelling the Enforcer, he ignored the combat vehicle that had come around the hill until the thunder of an ack-twenty hammered into his torso, rocking him back and stripping all of the armor off of said part.
Miraculously though, he was still up and combat capable, if a bit wounded. So, he turned to keep that armor facing away from the Hetzer that had made an appearance while Lieutenant Reagan's own assault-class autocannon made short work of the Quikscell product.
The Wasp, meanwhile was in full retreat after a few more hits from the Scorpions in the distance. Leaving the Firestarter, the Enforcer, and an APC behind with support from a salvaged Fedsuns Striker.
His leg armor shattered, with some of the missiles from said light vehicle, and for a moment, Austin wished he had some missile carriers to hammer back. Alas, he didn't have them, and wishes weren't reality, so he pressed on, hitting his jump jets to arc over the Enforcer just in time for him to catch its Ack-ten to the leg that had just had the armor shattered on.
"Fucking shit," he swore, hitting his comms. "Pan pan pan, I'm going down." His 'mech tumbled to the ground and he felt his vision go dark for a moment as even with his bracing, the back of his head slammed into the back of the command chair.
Checking his sensors, he noted that he'd only been out for a few seconds, just long enough for the Firestarter to set one of his hovercraft ablaze before having to dump its MG ammo and leave for fear of an ammo detonation.
Austin forced the pain of a likely concussion to the side and stepped on his pedals, easing himself back up and letting the medium-weight pirate know that he was there with his large laser carving a path along the torsos and into the arm before the pirate turned and forced his Phoenix's good leg to bend backwards and in on itself sending Austin back to the ground.
This time, when he woke up, it was to the enemy fallen on the ground in its own crater, and the rest of the pirates dead or retreating. The only problem was that even if they'd won, they'd paid a pretty heavy cost for it. Losing a lance and a half of vehicles in return for one destroyed Vedette, an APC, a Hetzer, and a lone Enforcer wasn't the kind of trade a militia could afford to make all the time. If the crews didn't make it out, then they'd have to recruit more people and train them up to the level of the old crews.
"Stone cold," his radio crackled, and Austin realized that the LT had been trying to talk to him. "Stone Cold, this is Lieutenant Reagan, come in."
"LT, I'm here," Austin replied. "Damage and in need of a pickup, but I'm still here. Two of my weapons still work, too."
"Well, that's good news," the LT laughed nervously. "I've got salvage and rescue operations en route. I think we'll be able to use the pirate Enforcer. Get you an upgrade. My 'mech just needs a new coat of armor. I don't know if we can get yours back into the field."
"One M-Blazer, a pair of legs, and she'll be good as new," Austin double checked his reports. "If there's one thing Siler's seems to do right, it's build them right. I've seen 'mechs heavier than this take less damage," Austin rested his head against the back of the chair. "Lemme know when S&R gets here. My hatch is blocked until I can get shifted."
With that, Stone Cold closed his eyes and took a nap. Both he and his 'mech had earned it.
Date: October 10, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
In the end, I'd done what people throughout history have done. I postponed my decision on what to do regarding my operating system and software package to later. While a part of me felt like I was procrastinating when there was a business opportunity that would be able to launch us into the big leagues, the other part of me was wary now that I'd been reminded of just how cutthroat things were here.
Yes, I knew that to everyone else, I probably seemed naive, and unwilling to learn, but despite the last four, almost five years of my life having been spent here, I'd spent far longer being an entrepreneur back on Earth. Sure, there'd been competition back then, but most of the time, I'd met with, and was actually on good terms with the people that competed with me in the local arenas back home.
So, I'd gotten in touch with the local SAFE branch, and was sitting in the room waiting for a meeting with them now. As a business that had been granted federal grants and loans, we did have a local liaison. This was just the first time I'd ever arranged a meeting. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I was going to find here. I just wanted to see if anyone had attempted anything similar, and what had happened.
Because I'd done a little bit of research with what was publicly available, and I hadn't liked what I found. Technically, corporations that worked for the Federal Government weren't supposed to be able to act against each other besides undercutting each other in bidding wars for contracts, etc.
However, I'd found a lot of information pointing to all of the manufacturers doing shady, underhanded things that I'd only ever heard companies doing in Central America, or parts of Africa before. Sure, I was paying mercenaries to guard Siler's Salvage and Assembly, but it had never really 'clicked' until recently just how in over my head I was regarding this sort of thing.
"Mr. Doe will see you now, Mister Blaze," an unassuming man said, gesturing for me to follow him into the depths of the SAFE field office.
I hadn't felt this nervous in a long time, and I should've kept my mouth shut, instead I asked the question that popped into my head.
"Is his name really John Doe?" I asked.
"Yes?" The man I assumed was an agent said with an odd look on his face as he glanced back. "John's a common enough name. So is Doe."
"Nevermind," I shook my head. I'd just made a fool of myself because I assumed that a cultural norm had passed on through the generations when it clearly hadn't. "I'm just an idiot."
"Whatever you say, sir," the man gestured for me to enter an office and closed the door behind me. Said office was as barren an office as could be. There was a small amount of paperwork unfinished on the desk, but nothing that contained critical information from what I could tell. There was a small safe in the far corner, and a fake window to round out what felt like the most stale office I'd ever been in.
"Mister Blaze," A sharp looking man in a set of dress slacks with an unbuttoned dress shirt stood up and extended a hand for me to shake. "I'm John Doe, I've been wondering when you were going to grace my office with your presence."
"Mister Doe," I felt awkward just saying it.
"You can call me John, if you don't mind me calling you Edmund. Now, take a seat. I assume whatever you have for me is important based on the size of the folder you brought with you," his sharp eyes trailed down to the folder before meeting mine. "So, what brings you to SAFE?"
"Well, I've been doing some research into my competitors, and I had some questions involving patents, how they were enforced, and where both the planetary and Federal governments lines are regarding intellectual property theft," I said, reaching in said folder for what I'd already found. "I've done some research on it, but there didn't seem to be as much information as I'd hoped."
"Well, I'll being by answering the third bit," John accepted the paper and set it down after glancing at it. "The planetary government has no ability to enforce laws or rules regarding goods that are sold to other worlds. The shipping clauses in the documents that bind the FWL together are the reason for this. A large portion of the taxes the Federal Government collects are from interplanetary trade. As far as intellectual property goes," he shrugged. "We protect it to a certain extent. A patent and IP is important, but with the Star League now defunct, we cannot enforce or pursue any legal actions beyond the borders of the FWL. Within our borders, things get a bit… Odd," He leaned forward. "But essentially, it boils down to one key aspect. If you cannot protect your own property. Then we are not responsible for what happens. The days of the Star League are long gone, Edmund. If they were, it'd be a lot easier to deal with IP and patents. Now," He shook his head. "It's everyone out for themselves. If you've got something you want hidden from the other corporations, then don't file a patent for it. Keep it internal. People can't make an attempt to steal something they don't know exists," He leaned back in his chair. "Now, was there anything else?"
"Yes, I wanted to know more about how SAFE operates and what we need to do to ensure we cooperate with you more…"
Date: October 17, 3029
Location: Concord, Free Worlds League
The pirates that had descended on the plains of Concord must have been particularly brave or stupid. Sergeant Austin noted as he saw a glimpse of said pirates across the hills. Usually, the sight of an assault 'mech meant that pirates wanted to go the other way and hit somewhere else.
This group, they must have been an advanced force for a larger band, or they were mercs who had just recently turned pirate. Because instead of turning the other way, they'd changed course to strike at the militia forces.
Of course, Austin did have to admit that a pair of 'mechs, one medium and one heavy didn't exactly inspire fear in the eyes of some newly turned pirates. Especially when it was an even number of units. The units that had been ready to go at a moment's notice was a lance of Scorpions and a pair of J. Edgars. Set that against an Enforcer, a Firestarter, a Wasp, and a Havester Ant Mech Mod… Well, he gave them about even odds of being able to fight off this group of pirates.
The first exchanges of fire between the pirates and the Concord militia had a few shots go wild, some strike and do armor damage, but nothing really happened outside of the two forces closing in on each other in the plains and open fields of the foothills of the mountains that led into the main cities and factories.
That is, until the J. Edgars got in range and Corporal Dunham's crews began to hammer the Wasp while Austin focused on the Enforcer facing him. On paper, the Enforcer and he were probably close to equal. Or they would be if he were in a proper battlemech instead of a militiamech. As it was, Austin was going to have to be careful to not overheat with his energy loadout.
One of his medium blazers melted armor off the Firestarter, a J. Edgar's armored skirt took damage in an exchange with the Wasp, and it fell to the ground, continuing its fire against anyone who came into range.
Then, Lieutenant Reagan tripped, falling over as she tried to back up to keep her eyes on everything, and the battlefield seemed to shift.
The lead pirate in the Enforcer immediately lit up on jump jets and moved to hit Reagan while the young officer was downed, getting in good hits with his autocannon and laser before Reagan rolled and forced herself back up to her feet. Her Mackie was a bit damaged, but she wasn't out of the fight yet. The same couldn't be said of one of the Scorpions, a streak of missiles from the MechMod hammered the sniper until smoke rose from the ruined chassis. They'd have to get Search and Rescue out later. But for now there was a skirmish to be won.
The pirates were definitely former Mercs. Because their gear was more maintained than it had any right to be, and as the fight wore on, Austin became exceedingly aware that he needed something other than the M-Blazers to use. He liked them, but the heat trade-offs meant he wasn't able to do as much as he'd like when using his jump jets. Swapping them out for a brace of medium lasers would do less damage to the enemy, but they'd allow him to be more flexible.
As he was duelling the Enforcer, he ignored the combat vehicle that had come around the hill until the thunder of an ack-twenty hammered into his torso, rocking him back and stripping all of the armor off of said part.
Miraculously though, he was still up and combat capable, if a bit wounded. So, he turned to keep that armor facing away from the Hetzer that had made an appearance while Lieutenant Reagan's own assault-class autocannon made short work of the Quikscell product.
The Wasp, meanwhile was in full retreat after a few more hits from the Scorpions in the distance. Leaving the Firestarter, the Enforcer, and an APC behind with support from a salvaged Fedsuns Striker.
His leg armor shattered, with some of the missiles from said light vehicle, and for a moment, Austin wished he had some missile carriers to hammer back. Alas, he didn't have them, and wishes weren't reality, so he pressed on, hitting his jump jets to arc over the Enforcer just in time for him to catch its Ack-ten to the leg that had just had the armor shattered on.
"Fucking shit," he swore, hitting his comms. "Pan pan pan, I'm going down." His 'mech tumbled to the ground and he felt his vision go dark for a moment as even with his bracing, the back of his head slammed into the back of the command chair.
Checking his sensors, he noted that he'd only been out for a few seconds, just long enough for the Firestarter to set one of his hovercraft ablaze before having to dump its MG ammo and leave for fear of an ammo detonation.
Austin forced the pain of a likely concussion to the side and stepped on his pedals, easing himself back up and letting the medium-weight pirate know that he was there with his large laser carving a path along the torsos and into the arm before the pirate turned and forced his Phoenix's good leg to bend backwards and in on itself sending Austin back to the ground.
This time, when he woke up, it was to the enemy fallen on the ground in its own crater, and the rest of the pirates dead or retreating. The only problem was that even if they'd won, they'd paid a pretty heavy cost for it. Losing a lance and a half of vehicles in return for one destroyed Vedette, an APC, a Hetzer, and a lone Enforcer wasn't the kind of trade a militia could afford to make all the time. If the crews didn't make it out, then they'd have to recruit more people and train them up to the level of the old crews.
"Stone cold," his radio crackled, and Austin realized that the LT had been trying to talk to him. "Stone Cold, this is Lieutenant Reagan, come in."
"LT, I'm here," Austin replied. "Damage and in need of a pickup, but I'm still here. Two of my weapons still work, too."
"Well, that's good news," the LT laughed nervously. "I've got salvage and rescue operations en route. I think we'll be able to use the pirate Enforcer. Get you an upgrade. My 'mech just needs a new coat of armor. I don't know if we can get yours back into the field."
"One M-Blazer, a pair of legs, and she'll be good as new," Austin double checked his reports. "If there's one thing Siler's seems to do right, it's build them right. I've seen 'mechs heavier than this take less damage," Austin rested his head against the back of the chair. "Lemme know when S&R gets here. My hatch is blocked until I can get shifted."
With that, Stone Cold closed his eyes and took a nap. Both he and his 'mech had earned it.
Gaffhook
Making the rounds.
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Too bad SAFE leaks like a seive but atleast Edmund is working in the right direction of IP protection. Glad to see some use of the militia mech in action, definitely not as good as a equal tonnage battle mech but it was never ment to be.
Nikoli
Voracious Reader and Beta
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- 9,576
MC, "We need another revenue stream."
Chat, "Hey why not make a few video games. You know like Fate/staynight, StarCraft, WoW, a million phone games."
MC, "That's an excellent idea. I will make SaberFaces everywhere. Oh and gatcha games with new clothing and accessories for the characters portraits. This will be great!"
Chat, "…What have we done? We have ruined another universe with gatcha and micro transactions."
4 years later
Comstar News Network, "Reporting today on a massive invasion of Rabid Fans from the Clan homeworlds 23 Galaxies have been burning their way to the corporate headquarters and servers of Fate/StayNight Inner Sphere Online to be the first to capture the servers hosting the game. The first clan to do so apparently is going to petition the company for a sample of Arturia's Pendragon's genetic material (computer code for basis of their new AGI companions) for integration into their blood name. The company has yet to respond to this request."
Chat, "Hey why not make a few video games. You know like Fate/staynight, StarCraft, WoW, a million phone games."
MC, "That's an excellent idea. I will make SaberFaces everywhere. Oh and gatcha games with new clothing and accessories for the characters portraits. This will be great!"
Chat, "…What have we done? We have ruined another universe with gatcha and micro transactions."
4 years later
Comstar News Network, "Reporting today on a massive invasion of Rabid Fans from the Clan homeworlds 23 Galaxies have been burning their way to the corporate headquarters and servers of Fate/StayNight Inner Sphere Online to be the first to capture the servers hosting the game. The first clan to do so apparently is going to petition the company for a sample of Arturia's Pendragon's genetic material (computer code for basis of their new AGI companions) for integration into their blood name. The company has yet to respond to this request."
Last edited:
Chapter 36
New
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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- 54,318
Chapter 36
Date: December 14, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
"So, we've gotten word back from several militia units that have used our 'mechs. One group faced off against pirates, one group just figured something out during training, and another did some testing," I glanced at both Susannah and Billy. Eddy and Sylvie had already sent me their opinions via the HPG a week ago. "Our Phoenix is durable enough to fight against proper battlemechs. But, we didn't account for the heat properly when we went with our Medium Blazers as the backup weapons to the large laser. The increased firepower worked well on the Mackie, but not on the Phoenix."
"Yeah," Billy shrugged. "I can see how that happened. What are you thinking we should do about it?"
"Develop refit kits and start with reworking our design," I replied. "The original Phoenix had a PPC and a pair of two-rack SRMs. If we're fine with making the design changes, we should be able to shift and provide two options. One is a SRM-4 rack in the left shoulder, and a medium laser in the right."
"The other is a trio of medium lasers," Billy put it together. "They won't have the firepower of the M-Blazers, but they'll give a bit more adaptability when it comes to managing a heat curve."
"That's great and all," Susannah interrupted. "But what's it going to cost to refit the chassis we already have to the new standards when we decide on them?"
"We're not going to be doing that work," I shook my head. "We'll develop the refit kits, and we'll sell them just above cost to anyone who's purchased a Phoenix from us. But we're not going to refit them from how they come from the factory."
I already knew that given a few years, that I'd be able to replicate at least one kind of double heat sink. In fact, one of the things that I'd done when Rebecca and I'd started FireFlight Industries was start working on what would eventually become a Double Heat Sink factory. Now, it'd be five years before I had them available as more than prototypes, but it was the future. If I changed the Phoenix too much, then we'd end up wasting money instead of being able to just throw some double heat sinks and more armor on the design.
"So, refit kits," Susannah sighed. "I assume we're going to have to print out manuals for the refits as well?"
"That's cheap and easy to do," I shrugged. "We'll just make sure we document our notes on the process when we refit our prototype chassis and we'll include it with the kits. It's pennies compared to everything overall."
"Oh, I'm not worried about the cost," Susannah laughed. "I just hate having to proofread and correct everyone's spelling mistakes."
"Fair enough," Billy said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and glancing at me as if he was the sole person who screwed up in that regard.
"If we're going to be setting all of this up on top of training people on the Mercury systems as we bring them in, then we're going to need a timeline. Right now, we're still waiting on construction, but Skobel's supposed to start delivering some of the equipment for testing and quality control by the end of–," Susannah consulted her planner. "Thirty-Thirty. Which means that if we don't get the refit kits done before then, we're going to end up with split focus on the two projects."
"Even if we run long on it, it's fine," I replied, trying to figure out how to word things to assuage her concerns. "The Mercury factory isn't going to be ready until late quarter thirty-two. If it takes us until thirty-one to test and produce our refit kits, then that's perfectly acceptable. I'd rather us take our time and put out a good product than rush this and have a bunch of bad refit kits go out. Right now, even with our 'mechs not doing exactly what we wanted them to do, they're being praised for durability and the ability to take a beating and still function. We're not old and storied enough for us to take a hit to our reputation by putting out a bad product. So, we're going to do this right."
"That, and most of us left Quikscell for a reason," Billy crossed his arms. "Subpar work makes most of us engineers hate ourselves. Only reason we ignored it for so long was that Quikscell was the only place that was willing to hire external engineers. Kali Yama trains and hires in house, so do most of the other companies. Honestly, once we're established enough, we'll probably want to do the same," the grizzled engineer reached up to scratch his cheek.
"Anyway," Susannah sighed. "So, we need to actually document what we want before we start trying to refit the chassis for it. Otherwise it's wasted time and money."
"Billy and I'll write something up," I replied, tapping my fingers on the table. "Problem is, just because something works on paper doesn't mean that's how the Chassis is going to work once we start refitting it. So, it'll be more of a guideline until we get it finished."
"I understand," The secretary nodded. "Just trying to make sure everything stays documented."
"And we appreciate it," Billy chuckled. "Plenty that goes wrong could be avoided if we actually knew what people were doing and when they were doing it."
"I'll work on the initial specs," I said. "But we can start working on that come Monday. Now, both of you enjoy your weekend, I know I will."
Date: December 15, 3029
"Well, based on what we went over when we went to the range, I've narrowed down our small-arms choices to three rifles, two pistols, and we settled on that one SRM launcher," She nodded towards the tube leaning up in the corner of my bedroom.
"That was the only one that didn't make me think it was going to blow up in my face," I shuddered at remembering just how close the other launchers had sent the missiles. "And I really don't remember which rifles did what."
"Well, we've got three basic platforms," Rebecca began to explain. "The Federated-Barret M42B rifle system is technically it's own self-contained ecosystem of parts and accessories. It's a direct impingement system based on the Federated Long-rifle."
Honestly, the only thing that really stuck out in my mind about the rifle was that it reminded me of the handful of memes I'd seen that had the M4A1 SOCOM variants back on Earth. Only, this thing was chambered in a round that would have knocked me on my ass if it weren't for the built-in recoil mitigation system.
There were two other weapons there. One a model that the Lyran Commonwealth produced that reminded me of a beefed up MP5. Which I only recognized from the movie Die Hard. And the ohter reminded me of an AK.
"The M42 might be the best bang for buck," I said, looking at the trio. "Sure, the licensing costs more, but it's one system that can be converted into whatever the customers need in a moment's notice. As far as pistols go," I looked at the pair. "While I prefer shooting the thirty-eleven, the Glock is idiot-proof."
"I agree," Rebecca grinned. "I kinda figured we'd end up with these as the final ones, but I wanted to make sure you had some input into the decision-making here."
"You're the expert on this," I shrugged. "I know nothing about any of this shit. If you think something's worth it or not, then we'll roll with it. The only thing I care about is making sure we have great products and honor our warranties. That, and that the one project we discussed remains in play."
"If you're right and that one pays off, then it's going to be a game changer," Rebecca laughed, her green eyes dancing in the darkening light of dusk from outside the window. "Honestly, I"m just glad I got to try out some gear and weapons I'd been meaning to purchase but hadn't had a reason to yet."
"While we're on the subject of factories, I ended up getting in touch with the factories that make the cargo containers for the ships and trucks. We can direct purchase them in bulk at rates that are cheaper than if we built a factory for them ourselves. Also, they're willing to make minor modifications for us to better utiilize them for the installation of the fusion engine and armory shelves."
"You talk to the owner of that old car factory yet?" Rebecca asked.
"No," I shook my head. "The guy's a retired billionaire, I feel like he's just going to laugh in my face and send me off. He doesn't need money anymore."
"Then we're back at square one and we have to find another source of fusion engines," Rebecca shrugged. "It's not the end of the plan, even if we have to buy out the production from a couple of different sources. Make the call."
"Right," I sighed, collapsing backwards onto my bed. "I'll do that on Monday."
"You'll do it tomorrow," Rebecca curled up into my side and rested her head on my chest. "If it weren't nearly night, I'd be pushing you to call now."
"Fair enough," I kissed her forehead. "I know it's an odd thing to be nervous about, but for some reason I can't shake it. I can meet with and discuss things with Skobel or any number of other companies without any issues, The militia, our customers, I can do complex negotiations, help work on a 'mech design, or anything else you can come up with. But when I think about meeting this guy, I get anxious."
"Brains are weird," Rebecca muttered. "If they always did what we wanted them to, then we'd have mastered the entire universe. Now shut up, you're moving my pillow."
A few seconds later, and she was gently snoring away. Leaving me alone with my thoughts about the future. In a few weeks, it was going to be 3030. If things went well, one year later in 3031, FireFlight Industries would be launching with a flagship product, Siler's would be halfway through the construction and finalization of the Mercury, and we'd be one step closer to having a true battlemech in production.
It was all going well, almost too well. I had never had this much good luck in my previous life. So, a large part of me that I buried under the surface was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. For me to lose everything once again.
I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was disaster coming. That something was out there waiting for the opportune moment. I could see it, the blood on the horizon. Just out of reach and ready to show the storm that was coming.
But nothing had happened yet. So, I would continue to make plans, carry them out, and do my best to be prepared for the worst. It was all I could and would be able to do until the disaster finally struck.
Date: December 14, 3029
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
"So, we've gotten word back from several militia units that have used our 'mechs. One group faced off against pirates, one group just figured something out during training, and another did some testing," I glanced at both Susannah and Billy. Eddy and Sylvie had already sent me their opinions via the HPG a week ago. "Our Phoenix is durable enough to fight against proper battlemechs. But, we didn't account for the heat properly when we went with our Medium Blazers as the backup weapons to the large laser. The increased firepower worked well on the Mackie, but not on the Phoenix."
"Yeah," Billy shrugged. "I can see how that happened. What are you thinking we should do about it?"
"Develop refit kits and start with reworking our design," I replied. "The original Phoenix had a PPC and a pair of two-rack SRMs. If we're fine with making the design changes, we should be able to shift and provide two options. One is a SRM-4 rack in the left shoulder, and a medium laser in the right."
"The other is a trio of medium lasers," Billy put it together. "They won't have the firepower of the M-Blazers, but they'll give a bit more adaptability when it comes to managing a heat curve."
"That's great and all," Susannah interrupted. "But what's it going to cost to refit the chassis we already have to the new standards when we decide on them?"
"We're not going to be doing that work," I shook my head. "We'll develop the refit kits, and we'll sell them just above cost to anyone who's purchased a Phoenix from us. But we're not going to refit them from how they come from the factory."
I already knew that given a few years, that I'd be able to replicate at least one kind of double heat sink. In fact, one of the things that I'd done when Rebecca and I'd started FireFlight Industries was start working on what would eventually become a Double Heat Sink factory. Now, it'd be five years before I had them available as more than prototypes, but it was the future. If I changed the Phoenix too much, then we'd end up wasting money instead of being able to just throw some double heat sinks and more armor on the design.
"So, refit kits," Susannah sighed. "I assume we're going to have to print out manuals for the refits as well?"
"That's cheap and easy to do," I shrugged. "We'll just make sure we document our notes on the process when we refit our prototype chassis and we'll include it with the kits. It's pennies compared to everything overall."
"Oh, I'm not worried about the cost," Susannah laughed. "I just hate having to proofread and correct everyone's spelling mistakes."
"Fair enough," Billy said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and glancing at me as if he was the sole person who screwed up in that regard.
"If we're going to be setting all of this up on top of training people on the Mercury systems as we bring them in, then we're going to need a timeline. Right now, we're still waiting on construction, but Skobel's supposed to start delivering some of the equipment for testing and quality control by the end of–," Susannah consulted her planner. "Thirty-Thirty. Which means that if we don't get the refit kits done before then, we're going to end up with split focus on the two projects."
"Even if we run long on it, it's fine," I replied, trying to figure out how to word things to assuage her concerns. "The Mercury factory isn't going to be ready until late quarter thirty-two. If it takes us until thirty-one to test and produce our refit kits, then that's perfectly acceptable. I'd rather us take our time and put out a good product than rush this and have a bunch of bad refit kits go out. Right now, even with our 'mechs not doing exactly what we wanted them to do, they're being praised for durability and the ability to take a beating and still function. We're not old and storied enough for us to take a hit to our reputation by putting out a bad product. So, we're going to do this right."
"That, and most of us left Quikscell for a reason," Billy crossed his arms. "Subpar work makes most of us engineers hate ourselves. Only reason we ignored it for so long was that Quikscell was the only place that was willing to hire external engineers. Kali Yama trains and hires in house, so do most of the other companies. Honestly, once we're established enough, we'll probably want to do the same," the grizzled engineer reached up to scratch his cheek.
"Anyway," Susannah sighed. "So, we need to actually document what we want before we start trying to refit the chassis for it. Otherwise it's wasted time and money."
"Billy and I'll write something up," I replied, tapping my fingers on the table. "Problem is, just because something works on paper doesn't mean that's how the Chassis is going to work once we start refitting it. So, it'll be more of a guideline until we get it finished."
"I understand," The secretary nodded. "Just trying to make sure everything stays documented."
"And we appreciate it," Billy chuckled. "Plenty that goes wrong could be avoided if we actually knew what people were doing and when they were doing it."
"I'll work on the initial specs," I said. "But we can start working on that come Monday. Now, both of you enjoy your weekend, I know I will."
Date: December 15, 3029
"Well, based on what we went over when we went to the range, I've narrowed down our small-arms choices to three rifles, two pistols, and we settled on that one SRM launcher," She nodded towards the tube leaning up in the corner of my bedroom.
"That was the only one that didn't make me think it was going to blow up in my face," I shuddered at remembering just how close the other launchers had sent the missiles. "And I really don't remember which rifles did what."
"Well, we've got three basic platforms," Rebecca began to explain. "The Federated-Barret M42B rifle system is technically it's own self-contained ecosystem of parts and accessories. It's a direct impingement system based on the Federated Long-rifle."
Honestly, the only thing that really stuck out in my mind about the rifle was that it reminded me of the handful of memes I'd seen that had the M4A1 SOCOM variants back on Earth. Only, this thing was chambered in a round that would have knocked me on my ass if it weren't for the built-in recoil mitigation system.
There were two other weapons there. One a model that the Lyran Commonwealth produced that reminded me of a beefed up MP5. Which I only recognized from the movie Die Hard. And the ohter reminded me of an AK.
"The M42 might be the best bang for buck," I said, looking at the trio. "Sure, the licensing costs more, but it's one system that can be converted into whatever the customers need in a moment's notice. As far as pistols go," I looked at the pair. "While I prefer shooting the thirty-eleven, the Glock is idiot-proof."
"I agree," Rebecca grinned. "I kinda figured we'd end up with these as the final ones, but I wanted to make sure you had some input into the decision-making here."
"You're the expert on this," I shrugged. "I know nothing about any of this shit. If you think something's worth it or not, then we'll roll with it. The only thing I care about is making sure we have great products and honor our warranties. That, and that the one project we discussed remains in play."
"If you're right and that one pays off, then it's going to be a game changer," Rebecca laughed, her green eyes dancing in the darkening light of dusk from outside the window. "Honestly, I"m just glad I got to try out some gear and weapons I'd been meaning to purchase but hadn't had a reason to yet."
"While we're on the subject of factories, I ended up getting in touch with the factories that make the cargo containers for the ships and trucks. We can direct purchase them in bulk at rates that are cheaper than if we built a factory for them ourselves. Also, they're willing to make minor modifications for us to better utiilize them for the installation of the fusion engine and armory shelves."
"You talk to the owner of that old car factory yet?" Rebecca asked.
"No," I shook my head. "The guy's a retired billionaire, I feel like he's just going to laugh in my face and send me off. He doesn't need money anymore."
"Then we're back at square one and we have to find another source of fusion engines," Rebecca shrugged. "It's not the end of the plan, even if we have to buy out the production from a couple of different sources. Make the call."
"Right," I sighed, collapsing backwards onto my bed. "I'll do that on Monday."
"You'll do it tomorrow," Rebecca curled up into my side and rested her head on my chest. "If it weren't nearly night, I'd be pushing you to call now."
"Fair enough," I kissed her forehead. "I know it's an odd thing to be nervous about, but for some reason I can't shake it. I can meet with and discuss things with Skobel or any number of other companies without any issues, The militia, our customers, I can do complex negotiations, help work on a 'mech design, or anything else you can come up with. But when I think about meeting this guy, I get anxious."
"Brains are weird," Rebecca muttered. "If they always did what we wanted them to, then we'd have mastered the entire universe. Now shut up, you're moving my pillow."
A few seconds later, and she was gently snoring away. Leaving me alone with my thoughts about the future. In a few weeks, it was going to be 3030. If things went well, one year later in 3031, FireFlight Industries would be launching with a flagship product, Siler's would be halfway through the construction and finalization of the Mercury, and we'd be one step closer to having a true battlemech in production.
It was all going well, almost too well. I had never had this much good luck in my previous life. So, a large part of me that I buried under the surface was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. For me to lose everything once again.
I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was disaster coming. That something was out there waiting for the opportune moment. I could see it, the blood on the horizon. Just out of reach and ready to show the storm that was coming.
But nothing had happened yet. So, I would continue to make plans, carry them out, and do my best to be prepared for the worst. It was all I could and would be able to do until the disaster finally struck.
Fernando
LIghtly Toasted Bröt
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Roll credits— dang. Wrong story.
Hrm. Nearest spot of trouble I can see is the Andurien Seccesion crisis that happens in 3020.
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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The funny thing is, that it's not necessarily supposed to be a bad thing.
My original Battletech fic/SI is named Blood on the Horizon after the old Sailer's poem.
"Red Skies at night, Sailor's delight, Red skies in morning, Sailer's take warning."
So, Blood on the Horizon just means that there might be good up ahead, or there might be bad. It's entirely dependent on the circumstance.
Chapter 37
New
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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Chapter 37
Date: January 24, 3030
Location: Solaris VII, Lyran Commonwealth
Vincent Stewart had been on Solaris VII for more than a few months now. His latest venture in gaining fame and fortune to elevate his minor branch of the family had involved bankrupting his own finances to purchase a 'mech that he had used for the Solaris Championships that had led into Christmas.
Said 'mech was now nothing more than a pair of legs and a medium laser. He'd been forced to eject under a barrage of PPCs and missiles that had struck his Orion's ammunition bins. The resulting detonation had destroyed everything except for the legs. Leaving him with third place and the pieces of a 'mech that had worked through the entirety of the Class IV match.
As he sat in the back of the arena, figuring out what he was going to do with the remnants of his 'mech. An angel seemed to appear.
"Hey!" said angel waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. "You gonna move your shit, or what?"
"Huh?" Vincent shook his head and realized he was blocking the exit to this part of the arena.
"Yeah, I'm moving," the nobleman sighed, heading to the cab of the flatbed he'd leased for his 'mech. The parts of his Orion were strapped to said flatbed and he backed up and out of the way as the attractive woman and a pair of 'mechs he'd faced earlier began to head out of the arena building.
Still, placing third left Vincent with enough prize money that he could continue to rent out the small apartment he'd been living out of while competing. So, he'd be returning and seeing what else he could make work with what little money and motivation he had left.
Pulling out of the arena, he drove to his apartment. There was usually an afterparty following any sort of big match. This being the first off-season match after the 3029 championship meant that there was a lot of opportunity for networking. Networking which would hopefully provide him an opportunity to either find a place among a decently-named stable, or someone who would be willing to sponsor him in a new 'mech.
The food there would be free, the drinks would flow, and best of all, there were always plenty of young, eligible young ladies at such events. Now, most of them were vapid airheads. But occasionally there were some with intelligence who might be worth pursuing if they were placed properly to fuel Vincent's ambitions.
He just had to make sure he introduced himself the right way. Making enemies right now would mean his quest would be over before it really started.
–
–
Solaris VII parties were radically different from what you might see in the average noble house across the Inner Sphere. At one of the events the Stewarts would have hosted back on Stewart itself, Vincent would have expected a fancy ballroom, delicate foods, etc. Here, it was a mixture of star Mechwarriors, groupies, and nobles trying to blend in and enjoy the environment without embarrassing themselves.
Because he didn't win, Vincent didn't exactly have a place of honor at the party, but the invitation was still welcomed all the same, and Vincent quickly found himself sitting with and talking with the second place stable.
"Look, I'm just saying that the current Class IV announcer does an awful job," Duncan Fisher, the second-place mechwarrior shrugged. He'd been piloting the Rifleman that had gotten the lucky hit on Vincent's Orion. "He makes the matches feel boring."
"He says the right words," A woman who'd been introduced as Sylvie Siler, sighed and continued eating her steak. "That's all that matters."
"No!" Duncan replied. "It's not about the words you use. It's about the passion, about making your audience feel like they're actually present and watching the fights in person. An announcer is fun for the stadiums and the arenas, sure. But they're not there for them. They're there to paint a picture with words about how things are going for those who can only listen in via audio."
"The man kept rambling, and it was clear to Vincent that this wasn't the first time he'd ranted about this to Sylvie.
"So, outside of placing well and talking about announcers, what does your stable do differently?" Vincent turned to Sylvie.
"Well, we're actually doing things the old fashioned way," Sylvie admitted. "I'm part owner of a company trying to break into the mech market. Sure, the Rifleman we have here is a one-off, but it's proof that we can make good products that can endure, even if it's only in a tournament environment, it's still a way to battletest and prove our work."
"What company is it?" Vincent asked, his brain churning with how to turn this to his advantage.
"Siler's Salvage and Assembly," the blonde offered in response. "We're currently producing and selling militiamechs, but we've got a battlemech factory in the works on Kalidasa if you're ever interested in purchasing something from us."
"I might be interested acquiring a new ride," Vincent said, remembering the briefing he'd read on new and upcoming companies to try and invest in. "But I'm much more interested in you."
This, this was his way to recoup his family's fortunes and start turning around his branch of the family. Great-Uncle Hector wouldn't be the only name people said when referring to the Stewart family.
"What'd ya wanna know?" Sylvie asked. "I'm pretty much an open book. Ain't got nothin' here to hide."
"Let's start with the beginning," Vincent shrugged. "Seems to me like your story's interesting enough, and I'm not really here for the rest of the party."
Girls could come and go, opportunity not seized when it was presented was failure. He had the opportunity, he now had to act.
Date: February 21, 3030
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
Mr. Salinas was one of the handful of billionaires in the Free Worlds League that had earned his money via the planetary scale instead of the interstellar one. Usually, someone found a niche that they could get funding for and spread out through a handful of planets to build up their wealth and make it work for both them and others.
Salinas on the other hand, had started in the local automotive industry as a factory worker, had eventually bought said factory from the owners, and then had spread into the local telecoms business, becoming the main producer and seller of satellites, rockets, and getting into space without dropships being necessary. He was one of the ones we were negotiating with regarding some orbital facilities to begin the construction of what I knew would help out in the future.
Endo Steel was still years out, even though whatever this ability was had spelled out everything from the formula to the machines and how to make it, the fact was that it was expensive, even in modern terms with dropships to get a proper facility built to the exactly what we needed to manufacture the 'magic' material.
But, I was just going through this all in my head because Salinas had retired a decade ago. Passing off his corporations to his son after having spent forty years raising and working with and bringing his family in on the business.
The original car factory Mr. Salinas had bought had long since been mothballed in favor of an improved one was what we were interested in purchasing for FireFlight industries. So, both Rebecca and I were here for a meeting. Because it wasn't the company he'd founded that owned the factory. It was the man himself.
A man who now welcomed us into his home office in preparation for a deal to be made.
"So, I've done my research on the two of you," the man sat down, and gestured for us to do the same. "I assume you two have done the same on me. I'm aware of what you want to purchase from me, and I'm willing to hear you out. But you must understand," He poured three glasses of bourbon and sipped at one of them. "I don't need the money. Anything you give me is just going to be reinvested into what my family is continuing to build. So, sell your idea to me. Make me want to buy into it. If you can do that, I'll just hand over the factory to you, no strings attached. It's currently a tax break, but there are others I can use. If you can't convince me, then you'll need to find someone else."
He leaned back and opened a drawer before withdrawing a cigar to go with his bourbon and gesturing at both me and my fiance.
"You may begin whenever you're ready."
Author's Note: Shorter chapter this week, but I'm on a work trip and have been busy. I'm probably going to roll some dice to see if Edmund and Rebecca managed to convince Salinas to give them the factory or if they have to figure something else out.
Date: January 24, 3030
Location: Solaris VII, Lyran Commonwealth
Vincent Stewart had been on Solaris VII for more than a few months now. His latest venture in gaining fame and fortune to elevate his minor branch of the family had involved bankrupting his own finances to purchase a 'mech that he had used for the Solaris Championships that had led into Christmas.
Said 'mech was now nothing more than a pair of legs and a medium laser. He'd been forced to eject under a barrage of PPCs and missiles that had struck his Orion's ammunition bins. The resulting detonation had destroyed everything except for the legs. Leaving him with third place and the pieces of a 'mech that had worked through the entirety of the Class IV match.
As he sat in the back of the arena, figuring out what he was going to do with the remnants of his 'mech. An angel seemed to appear.
"Hey!" said angel waved her hand in front of his face to get his attention. "You gonna move your shit, or what?"
"Huh?" Vincent shook his head and realized he was blocking the exit to this part of the arena.
"Yeah, I'm moving," the nobleman sighed, heading to the cab of the flatbed he'd leased for his 'mech. The parts of his Orion were strapped to said flatbed and he backed up and out of the way as the attractive woman and a pair of 'mechs he'd faced earlier began to head out of the arena building.
Still, placing third left Vincent with enough prize money that he could continue to rent out the small apartment he'd been living out of while competing. So, he'd be returning and seeing what else he could make work with what little money and motivation he had left.
Pulling out of the arena, he drove to his apartment. There was usually an afterparty following any sort of big match. This being the first off-season match after the 3029 championship meant that there was a lot of opportunity for networking. Networking which would hopefully provide him an opportunity to either find a place among a decently-named stable, or someone who would be willing to sponsor him in a new 'mech.
The food there would be free, the drinks would flow, and best of all, there were always plenty of young, eligible young ladies at such events. Now, most of them were vapid airheads. But occasionally there were some with intelligence who might be worth pursuing if they were placed properly to fuel Vincent's ambitions.
He just had to make sure he introduced himself the right way. Making enemies right now would mean his quest would be over before it really started.
–
–
Solaris VII parties were radically different from what you might see in the average noble house across the Inner Sphere. At one of the events the Stewarts would have hosted back on Stewart itself, Vincent would have expected a fancy ballroom, delicate foods, etc. Here, it was a mixture of star Mechwarriors, groupies, and nobles trying to blend in and enjoy the environment without embarrassing themselves.
Because he didn't win, Vincent didn't exactly have a place of honor at the party, but the invitation was still welcomed all the same, and Vincent quickly found himself sitting with and talking with the second place stable.
"Look, I'm just saying that the current Class IV announcer does an awful job," Duncan Fisher, the second-place mechwarrior shrugged. He'd been piloting the Rifleman that had gotten the lucky hit on Vincent's Orion. "He makes the matches feel boring."
"He says the right words," A woman who'd been introduced as Sylvie Siler, sighed and continued eating her steak. "That's all that matters."
"No!" Duncan replied. "It's not about the words you use. It's about the passion, about making your audience feel like they're actually present and watching the fights in person. An announcer is fun for the stadiums and the arenas, sure. But they're not there for them. They're there to paint a picture with words about how things are going for those who can only listen in via audio."
"The man kept rambling, and it was clear to Vincent that this wasn't the first time he'd ranted about this to Sylvie.
"So, outside of placing well and talking about announcers, what does your stable do differently?" Vincent turned to Sylvie.
"Well, we're actually doing things the old fashioned way," Sylvie admitted. "I'm part owner of a company trying to break into the mech market. Sure, the Rifleman we have here is a one-off, but it's proof that we can make good products that can endure, even if it's only in a tournament environment, it's still a way to battletest and prove our work."
"What company is it?" Vincent asked, his brain churning with how to turn this to his advantage.
"Siler's Salvage and Assembly," the blonde offered in response. "We're currently producing and selling militiamechs, but we've got a battlemech factory in the works on Kalidasa if you're ever interested in purchasing something from us."
"I might be interested acquiring a new ride," Vincent said, remembering the briefing he'd read on new and upcoming companies to try and invest in. "But I'm much more interested in you."
This, this was his way to recoup his family's fortunes and start turning around his branch of the family. Great-Uncle Hector wouldn't be the only name people said when referring to the Stewart family.
"What'd ya wanna know?" Sylvie asked. "I'm pretty much an open book. Ain't got nothin' here to hide."
"Let's start with the beginning," Vincent shrugged. "Seems to me like your story's interesting enough, and I'm not really here for the rest of the party."
Girls could come and go, opportunity not seized when it was presented was failure. He had the opportunity, he now had to act.
Date: February 21, 3030
Location: Kalidasa, Free Worlds League
Mr. Salinas was one of the handful of billionaires in the Free Worlds League that had earned his money via the planetary scale instead of the interstellar one. Usually, someone found a niche that they could get funding for and spread out through a handful of planets to build up their wealth and make it work for both them and others.
Salinas on the other hand, had started in the local automotive industry as a factory worker, had eventually bought said factory from the owners, and then had spread into the local telecoms business, becoming the main producer and seller of satellites, rockets, and getting into space without dropships being necessary. He was one of the ones we were negotiating with regarding some orbital facilities to begin the construction of what I knew would help out in the future.
Endo Steel was still years out, even though whatever this ability was had spelled out everything from the formula to the machines and how to make it, the fact was that it was expensive, even in modern terms with dropships to get a proper facility built to the exactly what we needed to manufacture the 'magic' material.
But, I was just going through this all in my head because Salinas had retired a decade ago. Passing off his corporations to his son after having spent forty years raising and working with and bringing his family in on the business.
The original car factory Mr. Salinas had bought had long since been mothballed in favor of an improved one was what we were interested in purchasing for FireFlight industries. So, both Rebecca and I were here for a meeting. Because it wasn't the company he'd founded that owned the factory. It was the man himself.
A man who now welcomed us into his home office in preparation for a deal to be made.
"So, I've done my research on the two of you," the man sat down, and gestured for us to do the same. "I assume you two have done the same on me. I'm aware of what you want to purchase from me, and I'm willing to hear you out. But you must understand," He poured three glasses of bourbon and sipped at one of them. "I don't need the money. Anything you give me is just going to be reinvested into what my family is continuing to build. So, sell your idea to me. Make me want to buy into it. If you can do that, I'll just hand over the factory to you, no strings attached. It's currently a tax break, but there are others I can use. If you can't convince me, then you'll need to find someone else."
He leaned back and opened a drawer before withdrawing a cigar to go with his bourbon and gesturing at both me and my fiance.
"You may begin whenever you're ready."
Author's Note: Shorter chapter this week, but I'm on a work trip and have been busy. I'm probably going to roll some dice to see if Edmund and Rebecca managed to convince Salinas to give them the factory or if they have to figure something else out.
Pyro Hawk
Unsure if Phoenix or Kitsune
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Don't forget to have a spectrum of possibilities, rather than just a 'Yes/No' here. Because he definitely sounds like someone who, for want of a better way of putting it, is curious about newer up-and-comers and is willing to indulge his curiosity if he feels like there might be something. And frankly, the circles he's a part of are from my understanding basically the big weakness of the company currently so failing to get the factory from him but having him interested enough to give some tips and introduce them around?
That's the sort of thing that might be more valuable than the factory in the mid-term, let alone long term for them. Sure, the lack of a factory in the short term would suck hence why it's a 'failure' of the success DC but getting close enough to trigger that 'fail-forward' offers... Possibilities. Naturally the Nat 20 equivalent would be to get the factory, get his guidance and introductions and possibly some funding. Just uh...
Do not Nat 1. That will have serious consequences if you want the MC doing anything noteworthy before the Clans shake things up.
MarkWarrior
Occasionally decent writer
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I generally use a friend's 3d10 system for skill checks. It's supplemented by base skills to a degree that means there's a lot more variability.Don't forget to have a spectrum of possibilities, rather than just a 'Yes/No' here. Because he definitely sounds like someone who, for want of a better way of putting it, is curious about newer up-and-comers and is willing to indulge his curiosity if he feels like there might be something. And frankly, the circles he's a part of are from my understanding basically the big weakness of the company currently so failing to get the factory from him but having him interested enough to give some tips and introduce them around?
That's the sort of thing that might be more valuable than the factory in the mid-term, let alone long term for them. Sure, the lack of a factory in the short term would suck hence why it's a 'failure' of the success DC but getting close enough to trigger that 'fail-forward' offers... Possibilities. Naturally the Nat 20 equivalent would be to get the factory, get his guidance and introductions and possibly some funding. Just uh...
Do not Nat 1. That will have serious consequences if you want the MC doing anything noteworthy before the Clans shake things up.
Also runs with a 2d50 luck system